


Queen of the North

by Tigereye77



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Addressing some of the stupidity in Season 7, Season/Series 07 Spoilers, This part not really Jonsa but if I do future parts will include more of that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 20:30:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11952048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tigereye77/pseuds/Tigereye77
Summary: The return North does not go the way Jon thinks it will.





	Queen of the North

**Author's Note:**

> There's really not much Jonsa in this part, but I'm toying with continuing it maybe in a series format that will have more explicit Jonsa-ness in it. This is also my attempt not to be as long-winded in my writing.

Sansa sat there tapping her finger against the armrest of her chair. The ring she wore, something Jon had not seen before, making a muted noise as the metal hit against the wood. His eyes slid over to the woman beside him, her hair gleaming silver even in the dim light of the great hall. He was seated in the audience, in front of the head table where Sansa sat now in what was his chair, the Northern Lords having NOT welcomed the Targaryen queen as Jon had promised and in fact, had summarily deposed him in favor of Sansa who had not wanted the crown. However, she had accepted it or risk a fracture in the North caused by Jon’s short-sightedness. 

The Great Hall was empty now, Sansa having asked the bannermen to leave them as she parlayed with the Dragon Queen’s party, of which he was now considered a part of. That left a bitter taste in his mouth and he could not help but resent his sister a bit, though he knew Sansa had tried and managed to keep the support of the North behind him until they found out he had committed what they considered the ultimate betrayal.

The had been sitting in silence for several minutes. Tyrion, Missandei, Jorah, Varys, Davos and Grey Worm were with Daenerys. Sansa was flanked by her siblings, though Arya stood. Brienne and Podrick were also standing behind Sansa and at his sister’s feet laid a great pile of white fur who’s red eyes stared accusingly at Jon. Ghost had not approached him since his return and in fact had snapped and snarled at everyone in the Targaryen party. It was only Sansa’s calm hand in his fur that kept him from attacking anyone.

The silence continued to stretch out, broken only by the soft tapping of Sansa’s ring against her chair. Jon shifted in his seat and he could feel Daenerys’ irritation radiating off of her. Nothing had gone as planned. She had swanned in with assurances from Jon that she would be met with open arms and relief, the savior of the North. Instead, insults and slurs had been hurled at both of them and one message stood out clearly:

The North will not bend the knee to a Targaryen.

_Tap, tap, tap._

Tyrion began to say something and then stopped himself. He exchanged glances with Varys and Jon could see both men were uneasy. They were two of the cleverest men in all of Westeros, perhaps in the world, but he could see they were uncertain how to approach Sansa. Her cool mask gave nothing away and she seemed content to merely stare, rather unnervingly at them, tapping her finger. In fact, all the Stark children, his brother and sisters, had the same cold, hard look in their eyes that was unreadable, except maybe to each other. Jon had never felt so shut out by his family.

_Tap, tap, tap._

“This is foolishness! Just bend the knee!” Daenerys burst out, her patience at an end.

_Tap, tap, tap._

Sansa looked at the Dragon Queen for one, two, three, four, five more taps and then said in her calm, smooth voice. “And why would I do that, milady?”

Daenerys flushed, noting the slight of not being addressed as “your grace.” 

“Because I have come here to save you all from the Night King and the undead!”

“So you wish to bargain? Your help for our capitulation to your rule?”

“That is not what she is saying-,” Tyrion began.

“Oh? Forgive me, Lord Tyrion, I clearly heard her answer to my question to why I should bend the knee to be, 'I will save you from the undead if you bend the knee.' It sounds like she would only help the North if we subjugate ourselves to her.”

“And why not?” Daenerys flared. “I am saving you all! I am no tyrant!”

“Daenerys has a good heart and she is kind. She freed the slaves in Meeren,” Jon began. 

“Yes, I’ve heard of how you liberated the slaves and left that country in a mess to sail for Westeros because you could not figure out how to rule it properly. Why would I want that type of person for my queen?” Sansa continued in her even voice. “I do not see a woman with a good heart. I see a woman who demands something in return for doing what is right. A woman who only offers death or her tyranny. I only hear more of the same of those who say do as I say, or I will kill you.”

“That’s not what…,” Jon’s voice trailed off as Sansa gave him a hard stare.

“It is exactly what she is saying,” Sansa’s voice cracked out like a whip. “Bend the knee or I will let you suffer.” She stood to her full height, creating an imposing picture. “Tell me where is your good heart, milady, when you allow what you claim to be your people to die and suffer because they will not bend the knee? I see nothing more than a Cersei Lannister. Do as I say or die!”

“How dare you, you bi-,” Daenerys began to rise from her seat, but Ghost was up in flash baring his teeth at the Dragon Queen. She gasped and pulled back slightly. Grey Worm moved to step forward but suddenly found a knife at his throat. Arya had crept up behind him, the tip of her knife poised to rip open his throat. Jorah made for his sword, but Brienne merely glared pityingly at him.

“I would not, Ser Jorah,” the Stark girls’ sworn sword warned. “It will not end well for you.” Her hand flexed on the handle of her sword.

“Sit down,” Sansa’s voice cracked out again, ringing in the Great Hall and Dany found herself abruptly sitting down.

Sansa let out an annoyed breath. “At this point, I see you, Daenerys Targaryen and,” her eyes finally slid towards Jon, “Jon Snow, more liabilities than assets.”

“What? Sansa, what do you mean?!” Jon sputtered in a hurt voice.

“Wight Hunt,” Sansa spat. “Of all the stupid, moronic actions to take.”

“We needed the wight to convince Cersei. She’s joined us in our fight,” Tyrion protested.

“And you believe her?”

“Or course, she promised,” Jon replied.

“Old gods and new, save me,” Sansa muttered. “You took dragons beyond the Wall and one died, correct? What happens to things that die out there?”

Jon understood more quickly than the others. “Gods, did he, did he-?”

“He did,” Sansa snapped. “And because of that undead dragon, a portion of the Wall fell and the undead are now in the North, marching directly towards Winterfell!”

The Targaryen party looked horrified and Daenerys began to weep. But Sansa had no time for tears.

“But we needed proof,” Jon continued weakly.

Sansa made a motion with her hand and Pod went to a door. A weary Jaime Lannister appeared and stood next to Sansa who nodded to him.

“Cersei lied,” Jaime said quietly, looking at Tyrion. "She had no intention of helping. Instead, she and Euron had planned to let your forces fight and die and she would take care of what was left. She figured out you had lost a dragon and they were vulnerable.”

“I should have known,” Tyrion muttered. 

"Yes, you should have," Sansa retorted. She glared at Daenerys. "Your bullying, arrogant tactics of showing all of your forces in an attempt to intimidate Cersei only provided her with tactical knowledge."

“So we fight on our own, we still have two dragons and dragonglass,” Jon continued.

Sansa and Jaime exchanged looks.

“She has hired the Golden Company. Right now, they should be landing in Kings Landing and she intends to march them towards Winterfell. While you’re busy at the front, she hopes to take the Starks.”

“Which means, because of your STUPID plans, your arrogance in IGNORING everything I warned you about, I will be fighting a two-front war,” Sansa snarled as she leaned across the table. “So no, milady, I will not BEND the knee to some short-sighted tyrant who has put me between the Undead and the Mad Queen and her 20,000 soldiers!”

Sansa’s voice dropped down into a low growl. “This is what we are going to do. We are going to sit here and work out a battle plan with Ser Jaime, Yohn Royce and Lord Glover. Tormund and Beric who made it out of Eastwatch will also join us.It will have to be a two-front battle plan as you “great rulers” have put me in this position. You will work with me and you will not question the decisions decided upon or so help me, I will allow Arya to slit as many throats as she pleases and let Ghost tear as many limbs as he wishes.”

“Ghost and I can have a race as to who can inflict the most damage,” Arya replied with an unnerving smile that made even Jon fear for his life.

“Any questions? No? Good. Shall we begin?”


End file.
